


Long Lost Longing

by VioletMaenad



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: AU - DV lived domestic and had Nero for a few years before the events of dmc 3, Anal Sex, Angst, Background past Dante/Vergil, Dubcon bc Nelo cant give consent and Nero is kinda pressured, Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, If I miss a tag please lmk, Incest, M/M, Nero is a DV baby in this, Smut, So Nero is around 19 during the main part of this fic, Spardacest Zine: It's Got To Stay In The Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletMaenad/pseuds/VioletMaenad
Summary: My piece for the Spardacest Zine: It's Got To Stay In The Family"Dante hadn’t gone to the island with the knowledge or intention of bringing home Vergil. It was an unexpected but welcome gift to have Vergil back.But Vergil wasn’t brought back whole.Nero was sure Nelo could tell he was significant, but didn’t understand why.So Nelo made up his mind on what Nero must be to him by sliding one of his huge hands between Nero’s thighs."
Relationships: Nelo Angelo/Nero, Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Long Lost Longing

**Author's Note:**

> Seems I'm one of the last people to upload my zine piece for the public. I highly reccomend anyone who hasn't bought the zine to have a look around for the others' works, as everyone did such amazing stuff! Was a wonderful first zine experience even if I didn't really interact in the server haha  
> Edit: forgot to mention I'm on twitter @violetmaenad

Nero didn’t really have a specific memory of when things were good. He knew things _had_ once been good, quiet and safe because he had a dreamy sense of sitting between his parents as they watched a movie or of being tucked in bed by them. There must have been arguments before things ended, but Nero didn’t remember hearing them.

His earliest, most distinct memory, was being scooped up by Dante, one of his fathers, as the sunset and being carried to the outskirts of Capulet. He was given a spare pistol, told how to fire it, to listen to his instincts and to wait for Dante to return.

He was going to go get Vergil, Nero’s other father.

In the end, Dante didn’t bring Vergil back that night. Nero had forced his little self to stay awake all night long, clutching the gun in his shaky hands. He didn’t move even when the rain started to pour and he was soaked through to the bone. Dante made his way back to Nero, drenched by the rain too and quiet the whole way home. He put Nero in some clean clothes, dried him off, put the kid to bed and collapsed right outside Nero’s door.

Dante kept his promise, albeit years later, when Nero was grown and helping Dante with the family business. Dante took Lady and the new she-devil with him to Mallet but forbade Nero from joining the hunt. Of course, Nero couldn’t resist the dig of asking if Dante was going to hand over a spare gun for protection whilst Nero twiddled his thumbs and waited. Dante hadn’t gone to the island with the knowledge or intention of bringing home Vergil. It was an unexpected but welcome gift to have Vergil back.

But Vergil wasn’t brought back whole.

The she-devil, Trish, in the image of Nero’s grandmother, said Mundus had renamed Vergil as his ‘blackangel’ – Nelo Angelo. It felt more appropriate to call this puppet that than by the name of the proud son of Sparda.

Nelo was bigger than Nero ever remembered Vergil being; twice as tall as his twin. Vergil hadn’t been chatty, but this creature was dead silent. At best, he grunted in acknowledgement when he was spoken to – more that he was being addressed, rather than recognition of the words. Trish got the most responses out of him at the start. All of them could feel the electric presence of a demon of her kind, and this empty version of Nero’s father didn’t take well to her. Trish once had to stay away from the office for a week because Nelo had made a literal grab for her, intending to crush her skull in his huge hands. Lady had his eyes follow her, creeping her out enough to stay away most of the time too. Dante got the grunts and small nods, but Nelo never acted on any request or question.

Nelo wouldn’t even respond to Nero at _all_.

Nero took up the role as Nelo’s carer in an attempt to get _something_ out of this shell. Dante initially refused to let Nero be alone in a room with Nelo, concerned that the puppet would suddenly restring and turn violent. But Nelo’s eyes didn’t even track Nero as he moved through the room. Nero had wondered if Nelo just couldn’t read Nero as a threat, some subconscious part recognising his little son. But if Nelo recognised him, then you’d think he would be more responsive. Maybe he just couldn’t link the sweet, little child to the grown, jaded man.

Maybe the trick was to be as persistent and sweet as he was a kid to Nelo.

Once Dante stopped hovering and went back to hunting, Nero didn’t leave Nelo’s side. He’d make sure the hulking knight would eat, would wash his hair, and would read the poetry books Vergil left behind aloud to Nelo. He’d just keep talking, recalling tricks about domesticating feral kittens through unrelenting company and gentle words. The few times Dante had walked in on Nero being… _soft_ , warranted Nero a snort and an ask as to why Nero couldn’t be this nice more often. Dante earned a yell and a ban from coming back into the room for the rest of the night.

Nero nearly resigned himself to Nelo never responding, till three months after being brought home, Nero nearly jumped out of his skin from feeling a heavy hand on his shoulder. He had started to doze whilst in the middle of reading out a poem, when Nelo had raised a hand to Nero’s shoulder. Nero froze, staring at the shell to see what he was planning. But Nelo didn’t move, and Nero slowly untensed. No words, just a neutral shoulder pat. Huh. Progress.

After that, Nelo was barely ever not touching Nero. At first it was just the shoulder touches; then it was touches to Nero’s head and chest. Soon, Nelo would pull Nero into his lap as Nero read. Nelo would even rest his head on Nero’s shoulder or hair, his quiet breathing deep and steady. It eased something in Nero, hearing such steady breathing. But still, Nelo didn’t respond to any of Nero’s words, not even with a grunt. Nero decided that was alright. The fact that Nelo was acknowledging and interacting with Nero was a huge achievement from how they first started. Nero was sure that even the veined scars on Nelo’s face were starting to lighten and diminish. Maybe Vergil would be himself again within a few years.

Things took a sudden… _shift_ when Dante had returned early from a hunt to find Nero and Nelo curled up together. Nero had made to pull away, to rise and greet his father, when Nelo’s arm tightened around Nero, trapping him against the shell.

And Nelo growled at Dante.

Dante had backed off and away, but the damage was done. Nelo no longer was amicable to Dante’s presence and didn’t let Nero leave his side easily. He was more responsive to Nero, slowly starting to make noises for him and at him. Purring and rumbling, especially when Nelo had Nero against him.

Nero was pretty sure that whilst they’d made good progress on bringing back Vergil’s autonomy, his memories were yet to surface. Right now, this was pure demonic instinct and impulse filling the void-wide gaps made when Vergil was turned. Nero was sure Nelo could tell he was _significant_ , but didn’t understand why.

So Nelo made up his mind on what Nero must be to him by sliding one of his huge hands between Nero’s thighs.

“O-oi-!” Nero yelped, dropping the book and grabbing at Nelo’s wrist. He didn’t know what to call Nelo to his face. He wasn’t _Vergil_ , but calling him Nelo might be counter-productive. It…it felt odd calling someone who hadn’t been there for most of his life dad, but that was probably his best choice.

Nelo ignored him, unfettered by Nero’s grip and started to slowly move his hand back and forth, rubbing Nero’s clothed crotch.

Nero could try getting away. He needn’t bother yelling for help – Dante was out on a mission and wouldn’t be back for a while. But Nero could probably get away and out of the house by himself. He _had_ been working as a hunter for a while, and one sluggish and horny knight would be no problem. But what would happen if he did that? Would Nelo give chase? Would he fall back into his cold silence at being rejected by Nero? Would Nero lose all his progress?

Maybe Nero would lose any chance of ever getting his father back.

Nero slackened his grip. “It’s…it’s ok, Dad.”

Nelo hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if Nero had changed his ploy to escape, before he returned to his ministrations of rubbing at the slowly growing bulge in Nero’s pants. Nero did his best to relax into the hollow knight’s hold, the back of Nero’s hand coming up to cover his mouth as his breath grew shaky. With his free hand, Nero started pushing down his sweatpants. Once Nelo caught on, the waistband was unceremoniously pushed down and Nero’s cock was freed to the cool air. Nero squirmed, unsure of how far Nelo was planning to take this. Did he just want to touch? Taste? More?

Nero shifted in Nelo’s lap, and became promptly aware of the bulge in Nelo’s pants. Nero froze, unsure of what to do, and Nelo rumbled close to his ear something sounded similar to “mate”. Whether that was naming his bond to Nero, or stating what they were about to do, or both, Nero wasn’t sure. Nero swallowed again, steeling his nerves, and relaxed his body. He shouldn’t get so wound up. This was great that Nelo was finally responding to him so well, and there was no reason for him to get in a fuss over Nelo being his father. After all, Nero himself had been the product of twins, and Dante had told him how demons didn’t care about incest. If anything, he should only be concerned about repercussions from Dante for stealing his mate, or be worried about somehow replicating the circumstances of his birth – something that Dante still hadn’t fully explained.

Nelo pulled Nero from his thoughts by starting to grind slowly against him. “It’s ok, Dad.” Nero repeated. “Lemme take care of you.” He shucked off his pants and turned to properly straddle the huge knight. _Sparda_ , he was so huge. Nero began to undo Nelo’s pants, his own pair of sweatpants (since they obviously couldn’t leave him in armour and chainmail), and quickly realised that Nelo was huge all over. Nero swallowed once more, this timeless as a nervous reflex, and more to stop himself from openly salivating. Nelo must be as thick as Nero’s wrist and was probably as big as Nero’s biggest toys. If Nero wasn’t experienced taking this size, he might’ve balked and ran for it.

The hollow knight didn’t respond to Nero’s staring, tilting his head almost in confusion for what Nero planned. “Don’t worry, Dad, I gotchu.” Nero pulled his shirt up to bunch under his armpits and guided Nelo’s hands to his stomach. Catching on, Nelo began to slowly run his hands up and down Nero’s side, making him shiver and help the two get accustomed to each other’s bodies. Nero tried to hide the almost goofy grin on his face. This was the most new and adventurous touching Nelo had done in all his time back home.

Whilst Nelo got busy feeling Nero’s sides, Nero took Nelo’s cock in hand and slowly began working his hand up and down it, getting a feel for it. There was scarring to indicate that the black veins had once even extended this far down, and whilst Nero felt his heart hurt over his father being so corrupted all over his body, heal so couldn’t help the keenness to feel that texture inside him.

Nero began to slide himself from Nelo’s lap. “Gimme a sec to get myself ready, alright, Dad? And then we can have some fun.” He was not taking _all that_ dry. He half expected Nelo to grab at him, not willing to lose Nero from his side for even a second, but was allowed to make the trip to his room and back unhindered. Probably having both their hard dicks out was assurance enough for Nelo that Nero would return.

Nero returned with a bottle of lube and propped himself upon Nelo’s bed. He pulled his shirt off and poured copious amounts of lube onto his fingers. “Just a sec.” He mumbled out to Nelo, who was watching every single move. He hadn’t moved a muscle since Nero had left, not even to touch his own cock, just continued tracking Nero’s movements. Wasting no more time, Nero began prepping himself. He was stretched pretty well already, spending quite a few nights with his toys since he had to spend most of his days now inside being Nelo’s nurse. Nero kept casting looks over to Nelo’s cock, wondering if he’d have to fist himself to get himself fully prepped. He might be able to wing it, thanks to the whole demon biology. The stretch might even be fun.

Once satisfied, Nero slowly rested back against the bed. “You can come over, y’know.”

Nelo stood, taking slow steps over to Nero. Dante had told Nero how he had to fight Nelo, so despite his size, the knight was in no way slow. Nero struggled not to flush at the realisation that Nelo was trying not to spook him. Nelo steadied himself atop of Nero, carefully pulling Nero’s lower half into his lap and lining himself up with not much preamble. Nero was almost relieved they didn’t have to worry about too much foreplay, worried that would make things awkward and give Nero more time to doubt himself. “It’s ok, Dad.” Nero mumbled.

Nelo slid into Nero inch by careful inch. Not too lost to himself to not be careful. Nero gripped the sheets for a second before he brought his hands up to grasp at Nelo’s shirt. He was so big, making Nero feel so small and _safe_ with him. He knew he shouldn’t feel like this, not with a husk of his father who might attack him if corrupted wires get crossed.

But he was so warm. Much warmer than Nero would’ve expected.

Nelo didn’t fully bottom out before he started thrusting. Slow, still careful and almost sensual. Nero almost opened his mouth to ask for Nelo to go harder. He could handle it, surely. But his mouth wouldn’t cooperate, too busy making small gasps and moans and small whimpers of, “ _Dad_ ” to say anything else. He shouldn’t complain; this was _good. Really_ _good_. It made Nero feel like all the stress, worries and fears over the past years were melting away with each slow thrust and Nelo’s gentle growl-groans.

Nero lost himself to the feeling of Nelo slowly fucking him (what was happening was probably too soft to be something as raw as a _fuck_ , but Nero was too embarrassed to even think of it as making love). He didn’t know how much time had passed before Nelo started to lose his timing, struggling between too slow and too fast, and Nero started fisting his cock, determined to finish with him.

When Nelo came he kept rocking his hips, panting hard but not stopping till Nero’s own cock gave its own spurt of cum. Nero’s hand untensed his grip on Nelo’s shirt, flopping down beside his head as he caught his breath. “Dad.” He breathed out.

Nelo tipped his head down, bumping his head against Nero’s, gently rubbing their noses together.

“ _Nero_.”


End file.
